


Running on Ice

by BryceWrites



Series: Broken Measures [4]
Category: Sons of Anarchy
Genre: Death, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Gen, Gun Violence, Hurt/Comfort, Minor Character Death, Minor Violence, Nightmares, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Shooting, Tears
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-19
Updated: 2015-07-19
Packaged: 2018-04-10 04:04:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,684
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4376573
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BryceWrites/pseuds/BryceWrites
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes when Kelsi was with Juice, she felt like she was getting better; like she wasn't so broken. But then somebody decides to shoot up the clubhouse and she feels like she's running on ice, like she'll never get better; like she deserves the pain she was going through before. Can Juice change her mind?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Running on Ice

**Author's Note:**

> So I wrote this all out of order, so I originally posted them in the order I wrote them, but since I wrote some in the middle, I'd appreciate if you'd read these in the order they are in the series. It makes a little more sense in my head anyway. I'll be adding onto these here and there, and I'm working on a chapter story that involves more of Kelsi's past coming back to haunt her, so if you have any ideas for that, feel free to comment and let me know what you're thinking and where you'd like to see it go.
> 
> Other than that, please enjoy and let me know what you think. :)

“Are you ready?” Juice called to me from the living room.

I stood in front of my vanity, trying desperately to get my earring through the hole in my ear. I sighed loudly, getting frustrated. “Stupid piece of shit.” I mumbled. “This is why I’m not allowed to go out.”

Something caught the corner of my eye and I turned, still trying to get the earring in to see Juice leaning against the threshold of my room. There was a look in his eye I couldn’t place and it worried me. “What? What’s wrong?” I asked as the earring finally fell into place.

“Why do you talk to yourself like that?” He asked quietly.

I ducked my head, looking away from him. “You know I’ve always talked to myself.”

He shook his head, moving into my line of sight so I had to look at him. “Why do you talk to yourself in that way?”

I looked at him for a long moment before shrugging hopelessly. “Did it for so long, don’t know how to not anymore.”

Juice gave me a sad look, gently setting his hand on my cheek. “I’m gonna change that.”

I shook my head, pulling away from him to look for my scarf in the closet. Gemma had given me one to hide the scars on my neck and throat. I didn’t mind Juice seeing them; we lived together. But I still didn’t feel good about the club seeing them.

“Why don’t you believe me?”

His words made me pause. “Because just you taking me in and letting me stay here is enough. You don’t have to fix me; you don’t even have to care for me.” I told him, turning around and wrapping the scarf around my neck.

“But I do.” He told me sternly.

The strength and emotion he put into the simple words made me stall out, my fingers barely touching the cotton around my neck. “Why?” I knew this wasn’t exactly ‘pep talk before we go to the family barbeque’ talk, but I needed to know. I stepped closer to him so I could look up at him. “Why does it matter so much to you?”

“Because I care about you.” Juice told me, gently setting a hand on my arm.

Loud banging came from the front door, making me jump. “Juicey! Where ya at, lad?” Chibs yelled from behind the wood before I heard the door open.

“Chibs, why ya gotta bang so loud?” Juice asked, taking a step into the hallway to look at the Scot.

“To get yer attention, o’course. Are ya ready or no?” He asked, sounding exasperated.

Juice looked back at me as if asking if I was ready. I nodded, tightening the scarf so it wouldn’t blow off on the bike ride over to the clubhouse.

“Ah, mah darlin’, ya look lovely.” Chibs grinned, making his scars crinkle at the sides of his mouth.

I blushed, ducking my head. “Ya don’t look so bad yerself, laddie.” I told him. I’d taken up his accent in the last week. The guys had been sitting around doing accents for fun. Hearing Chibs try to talk without his accent was the downright funniest thing I’d ever heard. But I’d picked up his accent easily, just having to hear him talk to be able to throw it back.

Chibs grinned wider, if it was possible. “I love a lass with a good bite to ‘er words.”

I smiled up at him. “So I heard we have a barbeque to get to?” I asked, looking between Juice and Chibs in mock-confusion.

Chibs smiled and set his hand on my shoulder, giving me a squeeze. “Off we be then.” He said, turning and heading for the door.

“Don’t think I forgot what we were talking about.” Juice mumbled quietly next to me.

“What?” I asked, pretending I didn’t know what he was talking about.

He gave me the stink eye before holding to door to the garage open and closing it behind me. We mounted his bike and took off after Chibs, easily catching up to him. We were at the clubhouse in minutes, killing the engine and getting off the metal piece on wheels.

Juice led us over to the clubhouse where there was fire going in several of the metal drums. Crow eaters were everywhere, smiling and laughing with the guys. Bobby alone had three standing around him and I shook my head.

“Kelsi.” Gemma said with a smile, seeing me.

“Hey Gemma.” I said, reaching to give her a hug. I’d learned quickly that Gemma didn’t do handshakes.

“How are you?” She asked. I hadn’t been about the clubhouse lately, as I hadn’t had a reason. I went to work and came home with Juice.

“Good. Better.” I relented with a nod.

“Good.” She said with a smile. “I’m gonna find Clay. I’ll see you later.”

We nodded as she moved away. “A drink?” Juice asked and I nodded. He moved inside and I followed him. The worst thing I had a problem with now was the large groups of people. Juice did well to stay right by my side, taking my hand if he felt I was moving too far from him.

“Barkeep, your finest whiskey for the lady.” Juice said with a smile to Half Sack.

Sack rolled his eyes, pouring us both shots of Jack. “Having fun?” He asked, leaning towards me a little to be heard over the music.

I nodded, tossing back my shot with a throw of my head. “Better now.”

Sack grinned, pouring Juice and I another shot. Jax and Opie showed up not long after. Jax made a beeline for me, smiling at me. “Ya made it, darlin’.” He said, giving me a hug.

I smiled, hugging him back. Thanks to a little clown face paint, I couldn’t even see the resemblance of my ex in his features anymore unless I looked hard; all I saw was some triangles, circles, and red lipstick. “Of course I made it. Do I look like somebody who misses a barbeque?”

“I’m glad you came.” Jax said and his every word was sincere.

“Me too.” I told him, squeezing his hand a little. “Opie! You trimmed your beard.”

His face broke open in a grin and I think seeing the biker smile was one of my favorite things. “Just a little.” He told me, fingering his facial hair.

“It looks good.” I nodded, although I knew I was the last person he’d need approval from.

We sat around for almost two hours, drinking and bullshitting. The barbeque was almost gone and Gemma was starting to clean up the kitchen when I decided I needed a smoke. I stole Juice’s pack with the sticky fingers my brother had taught me in high school when he’d steal cigarettes from the corner store, and I headed outside.

There were a lot of people outside. It was a nice evening with fair weather. I lit my smoke and took a deep drag. The Crow eaters smiled at me and offered to get me something to drink. I politely declined and they went around me. I wasn’t dating Juice, but I was living with him, which naturally ranked me above them, even though I didn’t need or want to. It was just the food chain and how it had played out.

I stomped out the butt when a van pulled into the lot. Something in my gut gave me a weird feeling and I turned tail, heading back inside. I quickly found Juice and asked if he was expecting anybody outside of the club coming.

Opie and Juice turned to me, looking slightly alarmed. “No, why?” Juice asked.

“This van pulled into the lot and I just got this bad feeling.” I told him.

“Let’s go check it out.” Opie said and Juice nodded, looking at me to stay where I was. I nodded and they starting to walk away.

They hadn’t even gotten ten feet from me when bullets sprayed the wall to my right. I hit the floor and tried to cover my head. I heard people screaming and yelling. Somebody was trying to run for the back door when they got gunned down. I couldn’t see anything. The bullets made the drywall explode and the wooden beams splinter out.

Somebody crawled over to me and covered me with their body. I had no objections, feeling terrified and worried. I didn’t want Juice or any of the guys to get injured or die. I was sure I screamed at some point, but I couldn’t really remember it. The gunshots seemed to span ten or fifteen minutes before it stopped.

I was breathing heavy and there were hands on the side of my face. When my eyes came into focus, Juice was on his knees in front of me, his mouth moving quickly. My hearing took another moment to come back before I heard him asking if I was okay or if I was hurt.

“I’m okay.” I wasn’t sure how, but the words made it out of my mouth.

“Are you sure?” His voice was urgent, but my head was spinning from the noise and the explosions.

I nodded against his hands and he raced off to somebody else. I saw blood on the walls and the floor and I made myself not look at them. I knew I’d fall apart if I looked at them. I remembered being in high school, spending the night at a boy’s house for the first time. He’d asked about my scars; the ones I’d gotten from growing up with an abusive family. I’d told him I’d been a clumsy child and he’d believed me.

To be honest, I forgot they were there most of the time. If I didn’t look at them, I could pretend they didn’t exist. But they did, the same way the dead bodies around me on the floor did. I pulled my head down to my knees, trying to pull myself together. I couldn’t hear any ambient noise, like crying or rubble being moved. I just pulled in close to myself and prayed there were few casualties.

I was startled when someone shook my shoulder. I turned to see a medic sitting there with her lips moving. I squinted, trying to hear what she said. I’d heard Juice fine before, but now I could barely hear this lady mumble. She put her hands over her ears and then pulled them away. My hands weren’t over my ears, but I nodded. I figured she was asking if my ears hurt. And if I thought about it, they didn’t hurt; they were just ringing loudly.

They put a blanket around my shoulders and put something over my ears, although it didn’t change my hearing. She motioned for me to stay on the ground and I nodded. She moved to someone else and I saw Clay and Jax standing up, both looking pissed as they talked animatedly between each other.

Happy and Chibs helped me stand up, Chibs never leaving my side. The room swam around in front of my vision and I leaned over, emptying the hot dog I’d had earlier onto the splintered and glass covered carpet. Chibs rubbed my back, continuing to move me out of the building. He set me down on the concrete pad outside and my hands were shaking really bad.

Chibs and Happy said something back and forth before Happy sat down next to me. I leaned into him, wanting some kind of comfort. Happy wrapped his arm around me and I closed my eyes, feeling drained.

There were hands, shaking me awake. I looked up with a start to see Happy and Opie over me. Opie took hold of me and made me stand up. I hit at him, wanting them to stop throwing me around, but he gripped me tighter, making sure I didn’t fall from his grasp.

My eyes were heavy though and I couldn’t focus. My body felt heavy too. Opie and Juice pushed me into a car and Opie drove me away, constantly touching or whacking my arm, probably trying to keep me awake. He pulled up in front of the house and came around to get me out of car. I saw lights and turned to see Juice pull his motorcycle into the driveway.

He came over and he and Opie helped me inside and onto the couch before Opie disappeared. Juice sat on the couch with me and my head still hurt. He pulled his arm around me and I leaned in close to him, pulling my feet up on the couch so I could cuddle against his side.

I didn’t know how long we’d been sitting there, but Juice moved, making me turn and look at him. He slowly reached for one of my ears and pulled something away, the tape sticking to my skin a little before pulling away the one on the other ear.

“Can you hear me?” He asked.

It sounded muffled a little bit, but I nodded. “Yeah, I can hear you.”

“Are you okay?” He asked, watching me carefully.

“I haven’t been shot at since I was seventeen.” I told him quietly, moving back into his embrace.

“What happened then?” He asked.

“The neighbor didn’t like us playing on his forty acres, but my brother and I, we used to sneak into his section of woods to hide from our oldest brother or our dad, or to just get away together. I got grazed.” I told him, lifting up my shirt sleeve to show him the long, thin scar the bullet had left me with. “It was only a .22 though. I knew it wouldn’t kill me.”

Juice got real quiet and it took me a moment to notice before I turned to him. “What are you thinking about?”

He remained quiet for another couple minutes. “Just tonight.” He barely whispered.

“Who all… who all…” I started, but the words didn’t want to leave my throat.

“A couple Crow eaters. William Jensen from the Washington charter was in town for a family funeral. Total count was four.” He mumbled, pulling me a little closer to him.

“I’m so sorry, Juice.” I told him.

He nodded. “But you’re okay.”

His statement held more depth than I’m sure he meant it to and it started me wondering. Did he think I was more important than other members in the club? Did he rank me higher above some of his friends? We’d only known each other a couple months. Sure, he’d somehow gotten rid of my ex, but I didn’t know where I stood with him.

So we just sat. I didn’t want to bring it up. Grief was hard, and I knew we both felt things deeply. So I just sat there with him listening to the silence of the dark house and the noises outside; a neighbor’s dog barking, a police siren fading away, a bird chirping.

“Let’s get you to bed.” I told Juice quietly, as to not break the silence of the room too badly.

He nodded and I could see the grief on his face as I helped him stand. I helped take off his jacket, hanging it on the dining room chair as I guided him into his bedroom. He plopped down, pulling off his shoes and looking up at me. “Thank you.”

“For what?” I asked gently. I hadn’t done anything.

“For being here.” He told me.

I ducked my head, not knowing what to say so I gave a little nod and pulled his door closed behind me. After getting into my room, I pulled off my clothes, not realizing until now how dirty they’d gotten between hitting the floor and being shot at. I could smell the gun powder and I tried to remember if I’d ever gotten gunpowder smoke to wash out. I changed into an old t-shirt and a pair of shorts before crawling into the sheets.

Sleep came slowly, leaving me with nightmares of a masked man shooting me, over and over again. Sometimes he’d laugh, sometimes he’d pin me to the wall, choking me. But I could never see any part of his face, and he continued to shoot me.

When I opened my eyes, Juice was leaning over me with a panicked expression. I was breathless, looking around the room for the man who had shot me over and over again. Juice scooped me into his arms and pulled me onto his lap, holding me tightly against his chest. “It’s okay, it’s alright.” He whispered in my ear.

I clung to him, making his shoulder damp with my tears. “It was so real.” I mumbled against his bare skin.

“I know. I know, I had them too. It’s alright. You’re safe here.” He told me quietly, rocking me a little.

I was suddenly aware of how lost I’d be without Juice, without the club. Juice had taken a few short trips with the club out of state, but they’d always let someone else stay with me, because of how scared I was being on my own. I did fine with Jax, Chibs or Happy sleeping on the couch, and when Juice was in the next room, I always went to sleep knowing I’d be safe in the morning.

But now, wrapped up in him, crying because of nightmares I couldn’t shake, I realized he was my grounding post. He kept me together and made me feel whole again, even if I really wasn’t. He helped me with everything I needed and made me feel safe and protected like I never felt before. I didn’t know where I stood with Juice, but I knew how much he meant to me.

“I’m sorry for crying on you.” I mumbled, pulling away enough to wipe my face.

Juice shook his head, wiping a stray tear away. “Don’t apologize for that. Don’t ever apologize for that.”

“You’re too good to me, ya know.” I told him, looking away from him. He was; he was constantly there for me, trying to help me out or make it easier on me. I barely knew what to do with him. He was an amazing person, but I felt like I was running on ice with him. I ran and no matter how much I wanted to get to him on the other side of the lake, I wasn’t going anywhere, never getting farther than right here. It was a hopeless feeling that made me think I should be back with Danny.

He shook his head again, his palm setting gently on my cheek. I closed my eyes, nudging closer to his hand. “You need somebody to make you feel safe, like if they’re around, you’ll never get hurt, no matter what happens. You’re strong, but you need somebody to lean on. That’s not a bad thing. That doesn’t make you less human. It just makes you human.” He told me quietly.

I looked up at him. His chocolate brown eyes held so much emotion in such small spheres. He cared for me deeply, and I didn’t know how I couldn’t see it before, but he did.

“I want to be that person. I want to watch over you and come home to that beautiful smile. I want to make you pancakes first thing Saturday morning and stay up way too late watching bad B rated movies on Netflix. I want to have that horror movie marathon on Valentine’s Day like you said you used to do when you were younger.” He told me, watching me carefully. “I want to be that for you.”

I smiled a little, feeling ever so unsure. “Are you asking me out, Juan Carlos?”

He cracked a smile. I’d never used his real name, although he’d told it to me the day he’d run Danny off from the clubhouse all that time ago. He shook his head. “No. I’m asking you to let me do the same thing I’m already doing, just to let me love you too.”

I watched him for a long moment. “Don’t… don’t say things like that if you don’t mean them…” I told him quietly.

He scooted closer to me on the bed and took both of my hands in each of his. “Is there anything in my face to tell you I’m lying? Take a good, long look. Take as long as you want. You know when people are lying to you, I know you do.” He told me gently.

I don’t know how long I sat there, looking at his face, but his gaze never left me. His eyes searched my lips, my cheeks, my forehead, my hands; but he never looked away from some part of me. “You love me?” I murmured.

Juice looked up at me with the same expression he’d had since we’d got into the position we were in now. He nodded. “I love you more than I’ve ever loved anything.”

Every word off his tongue was the truth. There wasn’t a trace of anything on his features to tell me he wasn’t being completely, utterly honest with me. “I love you too.” I whispered, fearing the words, although I knew they were true.

His lips slowly quirked into a smile. “Yeah?” He asked, like he couldn’t believe me.

I ducked my head with a smile. “Yeah.” I said quietly, looking back up at him.

He pulled me against his strong chest and held me to him. “And, we’re having shooting practice tomorrow.”

“Why?” I asked him, looking at him curiously.

He gripped my hands a little tighter, trying to convey how important this was to him. “I want to be here to protect you from anything that might happen, but I need to know if I’m not here, that you can take care of yourself. I know you grew up in the country with guns, but you need to know how to work every one in this house.”

I tilted my head. “You… say that like you have more than a nine millimeter and a shotgun.” Which was all I thought was in the house.

Juice almost let out a laugh. “No. No, there’s a lot of guns in the house. C’mon.” He said, standing up and taking my hand to tug me into the living room. He let go of my hand to remove a pistol on a magnet strip under the coffee table. There was one tucked behind the fridge, one in an empty flour jar in the kitchen, and three hidden in his bedroom, bringing the grand total to four pistols, one shotgun, and one rifle, in addition to his everyday carry pistol.

I just stood there blinking. How had I missed all these guns hidden around the house? I suddenly felt so much safer, but I was still confused. I nodded, looking at the spread. “I’ve only shot a rifle once and I don’t remember how to place a shotgun.” I said, meaning how you backed it against your shoulder so it didn’t dislocate the socket joint.

He nodded. “First thing in the morning, we’ll go out, just so you know how. And I’ll get you an everyday carry, just so you have it.”

I stepped over to him, taking his hand in mine. “We’ll get me an everyday carry. It’s us now, right?”

He grinned widely. “My ole’ lady.” He said, leaning down to kiss my cheek.

I bit my lip, considering the words bouncing around my head. “You… you missed.” I said quietly.

He watched me carefully before leaning down slowly. My eyes slipped closed as his lips pressed gently to mine. I wrapped my arms around his neck and relished the feeling of his closeness. He pulled back gently, watching me. I smiled a little, ducking my head. “That was a nice change.”

“Yeah?” He asked with a cute little smile.

I nodded, pulling him close and resting my head on his shoulder. “Did they find out who shot up the clubhouse?” I asked quietly.

“Yeah. The Mayans did it as retaliation.” Juice told me.

“Are you going to get them back?” I asked, looking up at him.

“Clay says we should, but Jax says we should plan out the next move, so nobody else gets hurt.” He said gently.

I nodded. Club matters were none of my business unless it directly involved me, even if I was Juice’s old lady now. I knew I had no say, but I silently agreed with Jax. I had found Clay to be careless in matters of the club, wanting revenge for any slight against him. And I knew people had died, but that didn’t mean more people had to die.

“Let’s get you back to bed. We still got five hours ‘til the sun comes up.” Juice told me, taking my hand and leading back to my room.

“I love you.” I whispered to him, looking up at his brown eyes.

He looked down at me with an endearing look. “I love you too.” He said, gently kissing me on the forehead before pulling back the covers on my bed. I crawled in and he turned off the light, closing the door for me.

 

* * *

I raised the pistol, lined up the sights, took careful aim and gently squeezed the trigger. It hit the heart on the silhouette target Juice had pinned to a hay bail out in the middle of the desert. Juice clapped behind me, making me lower the gun and turn to him. He grinned at me. Chibs and Tig hooted, making me smile.

“Hell’ova shot, lass.” Chibs commented. It was the first time I’d picked up the pistol and shot with it. I’d already been over the rifle and the shotgun, finding my groove quickly. Shooting was a lot like riding a bike, as long as you had the principals, it didn’t take long to readjust. I’d always had the best aim with a pistol, so I wasn’t worried about it much, but apparently none of the guys believed I was as good as I thought myself to be.

“Forget teaching her, I want her to teach me.” Tig said to Juice.

“Ain’t that good.” I said, hearing my old accent slip through. I bit my lip, but nobody else seemed to notice.

“Ain’t that good.” Chibs scoffed with his own accent, coming over to me and turning me by the shoulders to face the target I’d just hit. “Ya hit the mark first shot outta the gate, lass. I believe ya to be a better shot then meself.”

I shook my head. “You shoot stuff all the time.”

“But I didn’t grow up shootin’ at things, lass. Ya did.” Chibs told me, like this meant something different.

I shrugged, looking back at the target. I took careful aim, lining up the sights on the pistol before pulling the trigger enough to empty the mag. I lowered the gun, feeling how much lighter it was with an empty magazine.

“So… who were you thinkin’ about there?” Tig asked, coming to stand behind my shoulder. All the bullets had found their mark in the head of the target, leaving a three inch hole open.

“My ex.” I told him with a little smile, turning around to release the magazine and lay it out on the tailgate of Tig’s truck.

“Ya got yerself a keeper, lad. Best hold onto her or I’ll see to it, she ends up with meh.” Chibs said, coming to rest a hand on my shoulder.

“I think he’s doing alright with me.” I said, moving to lean into Juice and wrap an arm around his middle.

He smiled at me, leaning down to kiss me on the forehead. “You sure as hell aren’t getting out of my sight.”

“Good. I wouldn’t want to.” I told him, smiling up at him. Maybe I wasn’t running on ice anymore. Maybe… maybe the ice was melting. Maybe I was learning the difference between running and swimming.


End file.
